767 What's your emergency?

Everyone was in a hurry to beat the Lagos traffic rush typical of Monday mornings, especially if you live on the Mainland and work on the Island.  It is only ideal that you’ll make the journey out as early as 5am. So it was exactly 6:10am when I made the descent into Victoria Island through Amadu Bello way. Then I saw him… 

At first I thought he had a mental condition as with so many random people one would find roaming the streets of Lagos. But he looked too tidy to be insane… Well, I had to take a second look. He was lying on his belly, arms stretched backward on both sides, head jerking back and forth in uncontrollable movements, puke running from his mouth and nostrils. I was also sure I saw blood. I didn’t take another look for fear that it was really blood… 

It reminded me of a lady who sold all kinds of fruit on a popular route within Surulere where I grew up. The first time I saw her, I must have been 10 years old at the time… My Mum had said she was having an epileptic seizure. I didn’t know what it meant at the time. All I knew was that a lot of people had gathered; some frantically trying to remove any harmful item around the surrounding where she was convulsing, to minimize any bodily harm her jerks could add to the situation. Some others scampered looking for something to restrain her teeth from clenching. They claimed if it clenched in the process of her seizure she could die. Some others just stood around watching. A lot of people where barking out orders, ‘leave her alone, the thing go soon stop’ they shouted in pidgin. Curious strays asked ‘wetin dey do her? ’ 

I remember feeling very scared that she might hurt herself and die in the process. Mum had on few occasions bought coconut from her. Those few times she was in a good mood to make us coconut rice… After what almost seemed like eternity, the body movements stopped and calm was restored. I remember looking at her and seeing a scared little child in an adults body; a very embarrassed one at that. She tried to shake off the debris that had stuck to her dress. She had a few bruises on her face…she looked ashamed and angry… 

I snapped out of my flash back, was this another version of what I had experienced as a child I asked myself… Everyone was going on like nothing was happening, cars kept on moving and pedestrians kept walking, away from the scene. I couldn’t fault them entirely. The fear of Ebola had become the beginning of wisdom. Some had died from sheer ignorance while others died as an act of bravery… 

My first reaction was to pullover. But I wasn’t skilled. Other than what I’d seen in the medical series, Grey’s Anatomy, I knew and had no first aid training or experience. I was now driving at snail speed. The car behind honked aggressively; almost like I was a nuisance by choosing to stare at the helpless man… My conscience couldn’t allow me drive past him… All I could think of was that this man, helpless at the moment, could be Father, Brother, Mentor and Friend to so many. Yet in this time of need, no one stopped to help. 

And in a split second I pulled out my phone. I wasn’t sure who to call. My colleague recalled the Lagos State emergency number. It had been announced on air on some radio stations. I dialed 767 and in a second I heard a voice. She mentioned her name but I was too excited that the number actually worked to bother.  She asked what the emergency was. I gave details. She repeated my report to be sure she had the right information. She asked for my name, I provided same. She thanked me and then said they would send out a medical team to the scene as soon as possible. 

I felt relieved that at least someone skilled enough would provide help. Five minutes later, I received a call from someone confirming the emergency call I made. I was glad for the very first time that a system in Nigeria could work. It signaled there was hope somewhere, sometime, someday; for this beloved country I called my own. 

I am unsure how it ended. I guess that’s the feeling that comes with making emergency calls… You keep wondering how it all ended. But I am comforted in the fact that I did something. I pray he got the right help and survived… 

We really can make a difference in society if we all tried a little bit more and cared some more…If you are unsure what to do in an emergency situation within Lagos metropolis, please dial the emergency numbers ( 767 & 112 ). They work!! With the right assistance and resources, we can make a difference and bring about the required change this country and we the people seek.

Till next time, stay safe and be your brother or sister’s keeper! 

Toodles… 

Kechy!

What's size got to do with it?

It was the fourth time that day I had been referred to as ‘Ma’ (a courteous way of addressing seemingly older people or as a sign of respect for a person’s position or authority). First was at the entrance of the eatery where I had gone to get lunch. The security personnel had held open my door while I alighted from the car. He had a very broad smile on his face as he bowed and said; “Welcome Ma”. I gave him a smile back while heading for the door.

Next was the service attendant. She had a genuine smile on her face as I approached. “Good Afternoon Ma, what would you like to order? She said’’. I returned the smile yet again and went on to place my order.

The third time was at the bank. I had just driven into the premises and was heading for the ATM when the security personnel walked up to me, umbrella in hand speaking pidgin. “Good Afternoon Madam! Welcome, make I cover you with my umbrella make sun no beat you too much (let me shield you from the sun). He proceeds to walk me to the ATM machine before returning to his security post. I say a big ‘thank you’ to him for the gesture with a friendly but suspicious smile…  What was it with all the hearty cheers I was receiving?

By the close of work I had decided to get fuel for my car. As I approached the first pump in sight at the fuel station, the service attendant gleefully smiled at me and for the next 5 minutes I am showered with unrequited eulogies…

“Good Evening Ma! My fine aunty! How was your day? I hope it wasn’t stressful? And how are the kids?” (With a very happy smile plastered on her face).

I was too stunned to respond at first! Kid’s ke! (Which kids?) Not even kid, na Kids she dey ask for? (She’s not even asking for a kid, its kids!) Na wa oh! Where was it written that I had kids? *confused look* I pulled myself together, smiled right back at the attendant and responded; “My day was good thank you and the kids are fine. I would like to fill up my tank please”.

Now I had decided that this was a better response otherwise I would have spent the next hour providing explanations to my enthusiastic service attendant who had assumed I was a Mum with numerous kids… As if this drama wasn’t enough for one day (lol).

All through the rest of the drive from the fuel station I began to ponder on the day’s events. It wasn’t as though this was the first time I had been referred to in this manner (well asides the how are the kids question! Lol) but I was just too curious to know if I was alone in the ‘Ma’ department…

My good friend had called me that night and I decided to share my experience. After she had had a fulfilling 30 minute laugh at my dilemma, she proceeded to provide some explanation. It was either of two things she claimed. First it could be that the various people I encountered that day were being nice and courteous for the sole objective of receiving some financial gain from me or secondly, it could be that they felt from my look and size I could possibly be a ‘big madam’ and as a sign of respect had decided to address me as “Ma”...

Well, I was having none of it! ‘Big madam’ ke I asked? Where was it written that because I was a certain size I therefore had to be referred to as madam? I refused to let it slide. So the next day at work I engaged my colleagues in this same discourse.

Colleague No. 1 had a very good laugh before responding and sharing her own experience. She was in charge of planning and organizing a press conference for a company she previously worked with. Part of the requirements was for her to find a suitable location close enough to the office to host this event. She had decided to visit a popular hotel a few blocks from the office but then just before she arrived she returned to fetch another colleague to join her down there. Her reason was simple. She claimed she was too ‘petite’ to be taken seriously. She didn’t have the time to waste and she wanted fast results so she felt going with a ‘bigger’ looking colleague would help fast track her mission. Did they succeed in getting all they needed? She claimed they did only because she had gone with her more ‘big madam’ looking colleague. She went on to explain that if you didn’t have a certain look or carriage, you could either be ignored or in extreme cases receive rude responses from attendants…

Now colleague No. 2 was a Male and he had also encountered something similar, although his was a bit different. He mentioned how he had gone to a furniture store to buy some new furniture for his apartment. Now because it was a weekend he had worn a casual t-shirt, shorts and a flip flop. All through his window shopping, none of the store attendants approached him. He had finally found something he liked and signaled to one of the attendants to place his order. The response he received next shocked the life out of him. He mentioned the attendant looked him over rudely and proceeded to ask him if he was placing the order for his ‘oga’ (boss). He was livid! He was sure God had intervened on the attendants’ behalf because his first reaction was to dish out a resounding slap to the insolent attendant. He made sure to express his displeasure and also requested to see the manager of the store… Let’s just say that was the last time he ever visited that store…

Colleague No. 3, another Male, seemed angry while we all shared our experiences. Shoo, wetin dey do this one I taught to myself! I turned to him at this point and asked if we had offended him with our story. He claimed he was upset because our experiences where a lot better than his. Puzzled, I asked why? He went on to say that being a really “slim” male has its downside. He mentioned that apart from the fact that all the ladies he had dated had made various annoying inferences about his size, another was the fact that he was rarely ever taken seriously…

He shared his story. So there was this girl he had been noticing for a while in church, really pretty with curves in all the right places. Coincidentally one Sunday morning she sat beside him but didn’t have a hymn book with her (commonly used in Roman Catholic churches). He was glad to share his. They started conversing after this and many Sundays after, he decided he’d invite her out on a date. Ha! It was one move he regretted till date. Let just say amidst so many other reasons she gave for not wanting to go on a date with him, the core reason was that she was a ‘one man’ kinda girl and if she was going to do this with him (by “this” she was somehow referring to a relationship! Na date dem ask for where she get relationship idea from? *confused*) then he had to be all she wanted. Well not perfectly but at least close. In his defense, he asked her what she wanted and this was her response;

“I want a grounded man who loves the Lord and also knows what he wants and how to get it. Physically, he has to be built and taller than I am. Abeg, I can’t be grabbing bones ohh! He definitely has to have flesh in all the right places…” (inserts shocked look! Chai! These girls aint loyal! Loool).

Let’s just say that he practically had to start attending early morning masses to avoid running into her ever again…

Now on another encounter he had attended an event with a friend who as opposed to him was a lot more built (and filled out in all the right places. lol!). As they approached the venue of the event, his friend who was walking ahead of him was let through without a single question from any of the security personnel at the entrance. As he was about to step in one of the security personnel stopped him and asked if he had an invitation to the event. He was too stunned to respond. His friend had noticed he was stopped and returned to the door to tell the security personnel that they were both attending the event together. It was only after hearing this information that the security personnel let him through. Now for the rest of the event he was totally pissed. Na crime to be lepa again? (Is it a crime to be skinny?) 

He went on to say that no matter how hard he had tried to gain a little more weight he just couldn’t. Since he couldn’t change his size, he proceeded to change his look, carriage and presentation just so that he is taken a lot more seriously and so far it had proven to have better results.

We all had a good laugh at his experience. I kept laughing at his failed love attempt with the ‘Christian Sister’ Lord have mercy! Here I was thinking my experiences were bad… We went on to conclude that one needn’t be a particular size or frame to command respect. All that was required was a person’s carriage and presentation. Size really didn’t matter. Maybe or maybe not!

What experiences have you had in this regard? What has size or look really got to do with it? Feel free to share!

Till next time, have a fabulous week ahead…

Toodles!

Kechy!

I Remember...

We were not friends; we couldn’t even be categorized as acquaintances. You were just someone who attended the same Uni I did. First, it was the initial happy smiles you threw my way on random occasions when we crossed paths and I was too embarrassed to respond or reciprocate. If per chance I responded, it was usually with a confused scowl and a questioning look that wondered why in the world you were throwing smiles my way.

Uni went by in a flash. Four years felt like two. It was the fastest school year I had experienced.  I can’t remember seeing You that often, just at random occasions when social events happened to bring all faculties together. And then at one of the talent shows we had, I saw you with Anjola, my devout friend from my department whom I sometimes called “School Mummy”. Anjie had a heart of gold and warmth that drew everyone close to her. That was the first time we exchanged banter. I said a quick ‘Hi’ to you and turned to face Anjie. Almost as though if I said any more, the world would implode into a million pieces... You noticed my shyness and smiled some more. I, on the other hand frowned a lot more…

Graduation had come, life had happened and dreams were being chased. Some dreams taking us far across various states and continents… Social media was the link bridge. Everyone was on it for different reasons. Mine, more out of re-establishing lost contacts with close friends from high school, Uni or life generally. My rules were simple. Only direct friends, family, friends of friends, school or co-workers could get accepted. Random additions had gone with the previous most popular social media platform at the time. This new platform gave a lot more privacy than the former. My fastest rule to accepting a friend request was basic; intending friend would require at least 50 relevant mutual friends on my list to be accepted.  Randoms just didn’t cut it. There had to be some extended connection even as little as lecturer, doctor, church member, or a school group association. This was anti-social me trying hard to be a bit more cool but within the limits of what I could control.

You sent me a friend request. Our common alliance was the Uni we both attended and the relationship you had with my “School Mummy” Anjie! I accepted. We never spoke. You liked some of my pictures which I posted sparingly and comments which sounded witty or relevant to time. I shrugged each time I saw a ‘Like’ from you. Thinking how someone so unrelated could like something so unconnected…

And then the break up happened! I was never one to showcase relationship statuses on social media. ‘The ex’, then ‘lover’ insisted. So I had the status ‘in a relationship’ on my profile. It kept social media prowlers away. Well, some of them… So when it all came crumbling down like a pack of cards, I had to undo the status. Then came the questions…

I was grieving, I knew it wasn’t cancer, death of a family member or a pet, but it was my heart. Badly bruised at that… I needed privacy to grieve. It was the least I could do. The comments kept rolling in under the new “Single” status. They infuriated me more and more as they rolled in. Typical curious nature of humans, oohs and aaahs and what’s and whys? I answered none of these questions. Then I saw your message… It was simple and direct. Almost like you had seen a light at the end of a tunnel and decided to grab it before it faded. It read; 

  “Hey! I see you’re now single. It’s my turn now” *inserts happy smiley*

I was outraged! Such rudeness, audacity and impetuous! How could you make rubbish of the two most important years of my life that ended abruptly without as much as a goodbye! I hated your guts. You couldn’t even wait for at least one month before making a move! I called Anjie. I knew you were close friends with her. She laughed at my rant and said you were probably just being naughty that I should give it a rest. I didn’t! It was almost as if I wanted you to pay for the hurt I felt from “the ex”. They called it a fit of transferred aggression... and then weeks turned into months and I began to let go and forget the hurt from ‘the ex’, forgetting 'You' in the process…

Three months had passed after “the ex” episode. Did I mention I didn’t respond to your mail? Well I didn’t! Neither did you send me any more messages, nor likes, nor pokes. The silence was strange. It wasn’t as if I was anticipating any more messages from you. But the silence felt a bit odd. You were more active than I was on social media. You would post pictures of places, events and games. You loved sports. Your favorite was Basketball and you made sure to show off by posting pictures of every game you were in. The last I saw was one about a week ago. Rude notifications kept popping up when contacts updated their profile pages. So I couldn’t help but notice.

Then I saw the messages… at first I thought they were some failed attempt at comedy. I pulled up your profile. And there it was! So many messages from so many mutual contacts from Uni. The common message was clear for all to see. It read; “Rest in Peace!”

Could this be world prankster day I asked? The more I searched the more shocking condolence messages I saw. They sounded very sincere. I had once heard a saying that “it was only in death that people showed how much they loved or cared about you or your life”. It didn’t seem that way from what I read. These held more depth. With every message I read, your life unfolded right in front of me. Words like ‘kind', ‘friend’, ‘brother’, ‘mentor’, ‘confidant’ were used. And they all seemed to carry so much truth in them. No one seemed to say what had taken you away so abruptly, so I called Anjie. She had just heard. She said it was shocking. You had slumped while playing your favorite sport - Basketball! You were rushed to the hospital but never made it out…

I was more angry at myself than with the world for taking you. My anger, more from the guilt I felt for hating you for that silly message you sent me after the episode with “the ex”. Guilt tore at my heart string. Here I was, angry at someone the world seemed to get, never for once reciprocating the kind hand of friendship you held out to me… I sulked to Anjie, and she, in her typical kind nature, asked me to stop. The guilt would get me nowhere. She said instead, that I should create a memory of you, one where we were friends, happy and playful, one where we shared genuine laughter and complimented each other… I listened and it helped!

Each day since you left, I have painted a picture of you and I, happy, smiling and laughing at each others jokes. Did I also mention the long happy walks we take catching up on old times while I constantly tease you about how cheesy your attempt at being close friends with me was? Well, I guess you do! You guyz see everything from up there...

Today, I remember You, Toju Collins Atoritse, for all the happiness you shared in your world!  Rest well, my smiley happy champ!

Love!

Kosisochi.

Ps: This piece is a tribute to numerous friendships built, lost or gained around the world!

(Photo credit: Tariela Seiyefa)

She's back!!!!

So the funniest of things happened to me this week... I had been writing and posting short pieces on my facebook profile for a while now but after so much cajoling from my favourite 'cheer leaders' (Cassandra Utomi & Ebi Seyeifa) I decided to give blogging a try. I do what every typical newbie would do by going on google to search the best or most flexible blog platform to utilise but guess what I found??? "A blog I had started since 2008!!!!"

Oh mi gosh! I could'nt believe myself! So here's the excuse I had to generate for this inexplainable 6 year amnesia I had for a blog I created myself. I will provide two scenarios, feel free to choose which is a better explanation...(lol)

Scenario 1; I had just gone through my 1st break-up (darn relationship drama) and needed a platform for release...I didn't want my ex to think I was still hung up on him so I mentally forgot to keep-up with the blogging tempo...(lmao)

Scenario 2; I had just been employed on my first job right after NYSC (Nigeria's mandatory one year service to the nation) but after the first 2 weeks I realised that I was already getting bored on the job... So I find a boredom release outlet online through this blog, only to get bombared with so much work weeks following the set-up that I totally forgot about the blog! (Evil grin)... I'm having a good laugh here!

Anyway, let me know which scenario is a good enough excuse! *smiles*

Bottom line is, i'm back and i'll try to give this another shot and hope I

get you all excited enough to read my pieces!

Let's do this!!

Toodles...

Kechy!